While in college someone once asked em the toughest guy my age i knew and i think it took me less than a second to say a childhood friend named Kevin. I recently told the story to some coworkers, but the feat of strength, toughness, and kick-assery was amazing to witness. I might as well put it down here for all to enjoy.
As a junior in high school, a gigantic douchebag had challenged Kevin to a fight. Kevin just said "Brickyard." The Brickyard was a small clearing in the middle of a Brickyard. The key to the whole setting was that the Brickyard was accessed from school by a path to the woods, was deep in the deep of the actual brickyard, and was secluded from the front office by the mounds of bricks and stones on the clearing's perimeter. There were plenty of fights there when the opposing forces did not want to risk being stopped by a large crowd, teachers, or the on campus police officer. Going to a Brickyard fight was a rite of passage, which my uncles who had graduated from my high school 25 years before me talked about. With Kevin involved in a Brickyard fight, everyone was pumped.
Kevin was just about the dumbest lug in my class, which was proved when he was rejected by the local state university that had a 97% acceptance rate. He was the idiot who lied about his age to get a tattoo at 16. Forget cigs, porn or alcohol, get the tattoo. He was a traditional New England meathead, with an appropriate nickname of "Dewey". "Dewey" was always said in an annoying New England accent, andeveryone sounded like a 60 year old when they said "Doo-ie He lived on the same street as my grandma, and I spent countless summer days playing basketball, football and organizing neghborhood water wars. Kevin never did anything with 'touch'. The dude was always super aggressive. Throughout our childhood, I had witnessed him kick the shit out of maybe a dozen guys. He had one awesome advantage over a lot of guys in high school: he had been the same size since 6th grade. He had weightlifted for 5 years straight without stunting growth. He just stayed at 5 foot 10 as he put on muscle.
After school ended, I trucked along with friends of mine to witness a Brickyard fight with "Dewey". Getting to the clearing, there was a big crowd. Kevin took his sweater off as it was the mid-90s and people layered clothes. The other dude stopped smoking his cigarette in that lame teenage way where you do not inhale, and shook his head to his rural area, fake-gangster friends. People shouted "C'mon Kev" or "Fahk 'im up Dewey". It was like a lost episode of Parker Lewis Can't Lose.
The fight started off with some circling, some clapping of the spectators, and the occasional faux-boxing hop by one of the combatants. Kevin started in with a swift right and caught the dude in the neck. As these guys did not have any real training, the punches were going to miss. The douchebag did one of those flails as he bounced away. The guy's backwards hat fell off, and a big red mark was exposed on his neck. Dewey knew he had the guy, so he rushed him. Kevin threw a ton of punches just wailing on his body and head. Somehow, the guy threw Kevin off of him. Everyone was sucking in breath or doing a hushed-shout along with Kevin's punches or faggy kicks from the douchebag.
The fight took a turn that I will never forget. Dewey landed a punch and then got cocky and popped his body back in a dancer's manner. Dewey got wailed on the back of the head by one of the douchebag's friends and stumbled forward. As he stumbled and ducked his head, the douchebag or twatwaffle, knocked Kevin in the face with a loud snap-crack. When the douchebag's follow through was complete, we saw that he had grabbed a broken piece of brick. The DB's friend then took another shot at Kevin and screamed "Yeaaah-uh". My buddies and I were ready to jump in and rip on the DB's entire crew of poseurs. Honestly, for one second I thought, "At least I don't have braces, so if I get hit in the face, it won't rip up my mouth". Kevin picked himself up off the ground, and waived off my buddy Eric. Dewey charged the DB and punched him so hard square in the face that it snapped his head back and knocked him tot eh ground. He then turned his wrath on the DB's homie who had cold cocked him in the back of the head. It was about 30 seconds of asswhupping, and the crowd whooped it up. After the DB's friends collected him and the cheap shot artist, they scrammed back through the path to the school's parking lot. We circled Kevin and asked him how he was. His jaw was swollen and his words were garbled. My friend Josh said "Bite down on your teeth, do your teeth feel normal?" Dewey said "I can't an' my teef feel phucked up". He opened his mouth to show he had no broken teeth, but their were out of alignment. We all thought he had broken his jaw.
Things broke up, and a good friend of Kevin's rushed him to his Mom's house. The next day at school, we saw Kevin walk in with a small clear tube sticking out of his mouth and a huge face. Was Kevin pressing charges? Nope. Was Kevin going to be forever be Quasimodo? No. Dewey secured his legacy at school, not by fumbling twice in the biggest football game of his senior year, but by having his jaw broken by a punk with a piece of brick and proceeding to beat the living shit out of two people. I have never seen a fight like it since, and I have never met anyone as tough as Kevin since.